Hero
by Isabella Wilson
Summary: Draco was never a hero like Harry Potter. He was never bowed down to or worshipped. There was always someone better than him in the world. Always someone he would never be, because they were heroes. And Draco wasn't. But he wants to be. And even though it's quite hard for him to admit, he wants to be a hero.


Before anything, Draco knew he was the hell out of it. Ever since the dark mark had been burned in his skin, everything was painful. How was he supposed to live with himself? Everyday he looked in the mirror in his dorm. Like everyday he saw a pale boy with white hair combed back easily. A part of Draco saw that of himself everyday and for as long as he could remember there was always something about his face. Pansy drooled over it. People bowed to it. And others had a knack of spare distaste for them. Sometimes, in dim a moment, Draco silently agrees with that. Harry must have seen into the future when Draco was in his compartment. Who wouldn't want to be friends with Draco? He was rich, had money... He's the everything. But now, Draco knew, that in the Wizarding world there is good and bad. Obviously, he choice bad. And Draco was nothing. He would never be as bright as the mudblood. Or poor as a weasel. Neither would he be able to ride his broom as well as Potter does. That's what made Draco feel worse about himself. He always learned to be proud of himself. To be happy of who he is. He remembered in the good old days, when people practically bowed to kiss his feet. Now he was left the scraps of shame. Every single damn time Draco raised his wand, he remembered that he would never be the hero that Potter would ever be, or anybody else, for that matter. And Draco hated himself. He could still here Goyle's stinging words.

"Couldn't kill the old coot good ya? Was to soft on the 'ol man?l" He remembered Goyle saying. But Goyle didn't understand. He didn't here Draco's heart beating every time he opened a letter from one of the Death Eaters. This chain of life that chained Draco to the Death Eaters hurt Draco more than anything. What Goyle didn't know was that Draco would stay up past midnight drying tears, or wandering the halls, thinking about the good times before. When everything was okay.

oOoOoOo

They lost. Simple as that. Draco already knew they were going to lose. He half expected to be sent to Azkaban for his previous crimes for associating with the Dark Lord. That lead Draco to a bottomless pit. He was used to the feeling by now... But Draco wanted to be a hero. But he was no hero. Potter had saved so many times. Sure, Draco felt thankful. But the jealousy still burned vividly in the back of his mind. Draco was no hero. Everybody knows that.

oOoOoO

Draco bitterly spat on the ground. His anger and resentment was welled up together, along with a few rare tears that managed to slip down his cheek. Draco still couldn't understand why he was crying. What was this burning emotion? Draco didn't know. His wife stared at him. She didn't seem to be affected by Draco's temper. She just stood there and listened to her husband rant.

"Why did you marry me? Why? I am no hero, and you know that... Why?" This was his breaking point in the conversation. His ife smiled at him softly... Like a child.

"Draco... You are my hero," She said. Draco sneered.

"I don't believe you."

oOoOoOo

Draco wanted to be a good father. Unlike his father who had dragged him into a cursed life. So when Scorpius stared at the red haired Weasly, Draco's temper had flared. She was girl. A red bushy haired girl. And when he saw his son looking at her like she was the love of his life... It burned Draco to a crisp.

"Dad, Can I please go over there and talk to them?" Draco stared at his son. Then at the group of people. The heroes.

"No." Draco responded stiffly. He didn't understand why his son wanted to do anything with _them_. Scorpius frowned.

"But... B-But Dad..." Scorpius stared at him intently. Draco wanted to look away, but his heart hurt when he stared at his pleading son. He didn't want his son to go, hang out with the trio, and have the common thought that Draco was evil. Draco did not want to lose his son yet. Draco saw his son suck in a desirable look for the girl.

"Please dad?" Draco shook his head. "_Be my hero." _Draco swore that's what his son whispered. Draco felt his whole wall crumble. H felt pale and cold.

"Alright... Fine..." But the feeling of tears washed over him when Scorpius hugged him tightly, and kissed him on the cheek. And Scorpius ran over to the red haired girl, his father watching. And all Draco could think was 'finally, I'm a hero.'


End file.
